


Royal Flush

by B14nkSp4c3



Category: unOrdinary (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Arlo needs a hug, BAMF Arlo, BAMF John, Dr. Darren is the dad that John deserved, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fix-It, Good father Dr. Darren, Hurt/Comfort, John Needs A Hug, John Whump, M/M, Multi, The redemption arc Arlo deserved, Where are these kids' parents?, john needs therapy, that we all deserved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25626781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B14nkSp4c3/pseuds/B14nkSp4c3
Summary: Kings aren't meant to have regrets, but if Arlo could name one thing, it would be John. Just all of John. So how exactly did they end up living together?Basically if Arlo had an actual redemption arc and if people acknowledged that John was mentally ill and not just a Tyrant following episode 144.
Relationships: Arlo/John Doe (unOrdinary), John Doe & Seraphina (unOrdinary), Seraphina/Evie (unOrdinary)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 232





	1. High Card

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Basically I'm incredibly unsatisfied with how unOrdinary is going so far and I just need my babies to feel a little better. Also, I have a crap-ton of time on my hands. So I wrote this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo uses his brain and Papa Darren to the rescue.

There are some things that you can’t take back: words spit out in the heat of the moment, fists thrown when those words aren’t enough to voice your frustration. Whether purposeful or not, actions done in the name of the soft, annoying things called emotions have the power to change people's perceptions of you and the problem with perception is that it, once changed, is hard to shift back. Before you know it, you’re a completely different person to your closest friends, and what are you, if not defined by your friends? Even the small moments that slip by your notice can manifest into regrets that eventually haunt your everyday actions: a waking nightmare. 

For a King, things like regrets were dangerous to have. The scariest part about being a royal was never things like getting beaten for looking the wrong way or walking the unsafe path to your next class; it was saying the wrong thing, siding with the wrong people, and letting the fragile hierarchy fall into ruin. As horrible as it sounded, people were safer when they knew who not to pick fights with. It was better that people were scared. Fear kept people safe. Arlo knew this from the beginning: he knew that it was best to lead this way, to use a system that everyone was used to following.

This begged the question: how did this happen? How did they go from order to… whatever the fuck John was pulling? What did that irresponsible, immature idiot think he was doing? Fighting his way to the top? Playing with the hierarchy to destroy it? Please. 

More like brutalizing whoever got in his way for the fun of it.

A Joker didn’t belong in the deck, not in the game they were playing. And John? King? It could almost make Arlo laugh now. He was too reckless, too angry; there was too much the guy clearly didn’t have resolved in his head for him to think clearly. People didn’t just beat the living crap out of others for-

For nothing.

But it wasn’t really nothing, was it? 

You couldn’t call getting beat up everyday for being a “cripple” nothing. You couldn’t look at what the high-tiers did to people like John like it was nothing. You wouldn’t be able to say that everything Arlo’s “order” perpetuated was just nothing. A month of planned bullying and an ambush to force John’s ability out was not “nothing.” Arlo may have turned a blind eye to certain things, caught up in the squabbles of the high-tiers, but he wasn’t blind. Especially not to his own actions. Not when he knew that he pushed John, shoved at him to join their ranks when John himself knew he wasn’t fit. Things have escalated to this point... because of Arlo.

Rei told him once that he would be okay as King. Sometimes Arlo felt like he was wrong.

In those times, he took that self doubt and forced it to make him swallow his pride; he was a jerk, but he had everyone’s well-being in mind, dammit. Sitting up, the teen scrambled his brain for ideas, the quiet of the rooftop deceptive in its calm. The quiet was starting to make him twitchy. He can’t have regrets, not as a King, he can only have solutions and if there’s one person in this whole goddamn school who can pull John out of the insanity controlling him now, it was-

“I know.”

“What do you mean, ‘you know?!’”

“The entire staff knows. Do you really think that the headmaster would accept such a dangerous student into this school without some safety precautions? God- I really should have applied to work at a shittier school.” Darren muttered under his breath before the words got caught in his throat looking at Arlo. Well the kid was pissed, that was for sure. Where were these kids’ parents? “Listen, you think I don’t know he’s going on a rampage out there? Who do you think deals with all the injuries? I gotta write a slip for students to go to the hospital during class time, you know. This would be much easier if you all went to your classes like norma-”

“Then can you help, or not?” Arlo gritted through his teeth.

A quiet pause settled between the two. It was easy to assume that he would go to Seraphina first. No matter how much it annoyed Arlo, those two were friends, friends enough that maybe the crazy “Joker” might actually listen to the former queen. But God knew that Seraphina would just tell Arlo off, after all, he’d been saying shit about John since the two got close. He couldn’t think of anyone else to turn to for something as delicate as “talking unhinged elite-tier John out of his murder rampage,” besides the good Doctor. Clearly John trusted him, considering he was the one they went to when Seraphina was first drugged. Despite all this, the teen knew that, theoretically, this was a person of greater authority than him. Yes, he was the King, but this was Doctor Darren. This man had no real reason to help him, but if he’s seen what John can do…

“John doesn’t have much guidance in his life. I don’t think he ever did. Going from a beat up cripple to someone who has the ability to get as powerful as he wants, didn’t exactly help his stability. This school was the closest he had to a fresh start. I will help you-”

“Good. I can-”

“I will help you. If you help him too.”

Arlo conjured all the control he had to not squint at the Doctor like he was crazy. Because he wasn’t crazy. He shouldn’t be crazy. Arlo? Help John? With what, his homework? God knew he needed help with that. Besides better grades, what exactly would John get out of him? Especially considering… what happened. He doubted that maniac would even listen to him, but if saying yes was all it took. He glanced at the doctor and nearly flinched: glinting eyes and a dark aura.

“I’ll try.” He bit out, that signature stern look of his looking slightly angry. He opened his mouth to speak again but the doctor interrupted.

“He needs control. Order. Self-esteem.”

“Self-esteem, have you seen the ego in that guy?” The blond scoffed, if a bit uncharacteristic, “look, I tried to get it in his head before, high-tiers have that responsibility but-”

“Not because he’s a high-tier, but because he doesn’t want to be one. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two about humility and the difference between self esteem and self confidence. Now…” The doctor downed his cup of coffee and stood, “where’s that brat?”


	2. A Pair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they become a pair. Kinda. Angst? Oops. I swear it's necessary for setting the scene.

“John!” His voice rang so much louder in this alleyway, it nearly made him wince. This was one of the quiet paths the low-tiers used to get around the school without bumping into their bullies — figures that he would find the “cripple” here. “Let’s talk.”

John paused and turned, but didn’t say anything.

Waiting for the other to respond made Arlo’s palms sweat. The rational part of him still understood that _he_ was King, especially considering that John, despite having beat him in a match, never actually took the title for himself. No matter how often the other student would boss him around and push his responsibilities onto him, he only ever acted like a high-tier when he needed help — or when he was busy beating someone up. Nervousness shouldn’t have been Arlo’s first reaction, but to be scared in front of someone stronger than you was just natural. It was how it was.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Ass. But he needed to keep John here, for just long enough... and there he was: turning away.

Arlo grabbed John’s wrist and closed his eyes to keep calm as he took the verbal lashing he got for it, “I’m sorry… for everything.”

If he looked closely, he could see the conflict in John’s eyes. Surprise came first, like he’d never heard anyone say sorry to him — not properly at least, then anger and suspicion, as if someone couldn’t be sorry without there being a catch. Those eyes used to be so bright before madness dulled them. 

“I shouldn’t have tricked you.” The apology came much easier to him than Arlo would have liked, maybe it was the regret that dragged him out here in the first place, rearing its ugly head. “I should’ve just left you alone, or heard you out, or done something to help-” he caught himself rambling and loosened his hold on John's wrist.

“I’m sorry.” 

Then John yanked his hand back, startling Arlo into his signature irritated glare. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” That look should have been one that Arlo recognized by now, after all, John yelled at him every chance he got. “After all the shit you put me through? ‘Sorry’ isn’t gonna change anything Arlo!”

That look should’ve been familiar, but it wasn’t. Why did he look so guarded when he was meant to be attacking? Defensive? Like a “sorry” was just another poorly disguised backhand.

“I-” Arlo reached out again as the other teen widened the distance between them, “I get that, but regardless I want to put it out there: that I regret all of it.”

John’s face twisted in fury, the words morphing into an entirely different monster in his head. “Ah so you come crawling to me because things didn’t go the way you expected-”

“No! For fuck’s sake, John, I just want you to understand that I’m-!” Arlo was glaring and he didn’t notice it before, but his hand was squeezing tightly around John’s arm again. Somewhere in the middle of it all, the taller of the two started the physical part of this fight, long before the first fist was thrown. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry because my actions screwed up the school, because they made you snap, whatever. But also because I bothered you in the first place when you weren’t even doing anything to me. I get it- the hierarchy-'' He hesitated, knowing those words would render his entire belief system useless, “the hierarchy is flawed. I can try to make it up to you, but I can’t fix everything-”

“Then shut up-”

Arlo paused and gave John an incredulous look. “What?”

“Then shut the fuck up.” _Angry._ “If you can’t fix it, then I will and I’m starting with this shitty school.” _Who are you always so angry at?_

John pulled his arm away again, rougher to spite Arlo’s tighter grip and almost mocking the way the King spilled his guts. It was so easy to say that John was beyond saving at this point and that nothing would ever be enough to change his mind. But to Arlo, that would imply that everything he spent the last two years building was also beyond help, and whether or not he gave a shit about John, he _refused_ to believe that his work could be unraveled that easily.

And what did John think about all of this? Arlo’s “work” was all bullshit. Reducing the violence, his fucking ass. How long have the high-tiers, the _Royals,_ been abusing their power? Using their better status to beat others down or just as a good excuse to ignore the violence going on around them? John was just returning the favour and using his power to tell those useless fuckers that enough was enough. He’s not a _monster_ , he’s just repaying years and years of daily beatings in one quick smack-down; they should be grateful even, that they’re learning this lesson through him and not the way that John had to learn it. He didn’t want the title, not anymore, what good did that do him? He just wanted things to be different so that maybe he wouldn’t have to worry about whether people were really his friends or just fucking with him. 

Maybe if everyone were crippled, things would be easier.

“Enough John!” Arlo. He always did have a way of snapping John out of his thoughts. “You’re not going anywhere ‘till we settle this.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.” It was strangely eerie: the echo in the alleyway adding to the hollowness of John’s tone, that easy-going smile plastered on with words that promised the entire school’s demise. He really didn’t care, did he? But _fuck’s sake_ John was so tired of caring, of fighting everyone, of fighting himself just to survive. And if life was really meant to be the constant breaking of bones and shedding of blood just to have a steady place to stand in the world, then John would rather have everyone fighting than just the ones unlucky enough to be born weak. It was a fucked up sense of justice, but it was justice enough to John. “Beat me up if you want, I won’t even fight back. Let’s see how your people will react seeing their King fucking a cripple up while the Joker is on the loose.”

Arlo’s eyes widened, staring at the other male like he was crazy. Did he seriously think that reputation would matter at all anymore? When innocent people, when someone like Remi, were in danger? When this idiot was seriously about to go on a murder spree to destroy an entire system that, while flawed, kept their school relatively peaceful? Was Arlo missing a point here or was John just insane?

“Accept it Arlo,” John said with his arms raised, “you have no option but to wai-”

Arlo initiated the violence. He was also the first to throw a punch, a snarl on his face and determination in his eyes. He was going to save this school, and if he needed to save this idiot in the process, then damn his reputation.

Caught off guard, John stumbled back, eyes glazed and dull even under the bright sky. So much had changed since the start of the school year. Before all this he had Seraphina, himself, his peace and quiet. He could take the beatings everyday if it meant he didn’t need to yank at his aura again and create a monster out of his father’s child. So much has changed since then. Everything will keep changing.

_Stop fucking changing!_

He stiffly brought a hand up to his face, abnormally steady as he touched his bleeding lip before his vision zoned in on the dark red against the tips of his fingers.

_“You’ll regret this too, motherfucker!”_

It was a bloodbath. 

Arlo knew better than to fight with his ability, but playing hand to hand with someone who pretended to be a cripple for two years and was difficult. The only thing helping him at this point was the way John was splitting apart. His punches were hard, accurate, but reckless. He didn’t fight to escape, he fought to maim, to draw blood, to find justification for his anger through victory. Punches were met with punches and eventually, John came to a point where he didn’t care if he was hit if it meant that he would get the chance to hurt in return. The difference between the two was that John was used to this kind of beating, fighting to lose but at least get a heavy hit in. On the other hand, Arlo’s ability meant he never really needed to focus on close combat before, but now his greatest power would also be his greatest weakness.

Arlo ended up on the ground, a wide-eyed, snarling John straddling his waist and effectively pinning him down. But the blond could see the way he was trembling, whether of exhaustion or fury or whatever else might be driving John into the ground, it didn’t matter. He’d stalled well enough.

John pulled his fist back and slammed it down on Arlo’s face. “Know your place, you fucking lapdog!” He punched him again.

And again.

And again. 

It didn’t matter that his knuckles were screaming at him to stop, or that those voices, so sickeningly familiar, were reminding him that he’d become something disgusting. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t-

Blood was warm against John’s skin. Alro was a firm heat underneath him. The sun beat its relentless rays down on John’s neck. So why the _fuck_ was he shaking so much?

“Don’t come near me ever again,” the world shrunk until it was just this body underneath him; just John and the monster he’d defended himself from. “You should’ve left when I told you to, you worthless piece of-” he raised his fist again to drive the point in. Kill the monsters and you’ll be safe in your own little kingdom.

“John-” It was a different voice. The world stretched out again, dizzyingly fast as suddenly John’s focus was yanked in a different direction and hazy eyes locked onto the familiar figure walking towards him and his slayed monster.

Everything hurt and Arlo’s eyes were so swollen. He should’ve just passed out, but with the sliver of vision he had left he watched that same cycle of emotion go through John’s eyes.

Shock, sadness, and anger. Fury.

“You too? Hah- I should’ve known that every piece of trash in this fucking schoo-” It was so easy for John to lash out. So easy, it was reflexive almost, in the same way one might block their head if they’re about to be punched. Anger kept people from trying him. The constant fighting kept others at a distance. John was just defending himself, he didn’t start this, he didn’t do this, he wasn’t a monster. This piece of _garbage_ was the monster.

Darren sighed and spoke up after a couple terse seconds of silence. “John-”

_”That’s enough.”_

No. Who were they to tell him when it’s enough? Why didn’t they say it was ‘enough’ when _he_ was the one getting beaten? Why were they always choosing the other side-

_”I can help yo-”_

Lie. They were liars. They were all liars. They didn’t help him before, that’s why he was fighting the monsters himself. They never helped him. They were all monsters.

“I don’t need your fucking help!” It came out a screech, a cornered animal writhing between their predator’s jaws, “I never needed anybody's help! I could- I can take it! _Don’t fucking look down on me_!”

Arlo took his chance then, grabbing his arm and switching their positions until a screaming, bucking John was firmly pressed to the concrete by Arlo’s weight.

The concrete was hot after all day of sucking up the sun’s heat. It was so hot. It burned. Burned John’s cheek, his neck, his fists as he beat and punched at the ground. The scrape of his knees against the rock seared his flesh. It was stealing his heat too. It was draining him of life, making it harder and harder to breathe until the hurt he’d been ignoring bloomed against blood-wet flesh.

He just needed to move. To push hard enough and run and get out of there, get healed somewhere.

“John, will you listen for once! Look at yourself!”

_“Look at yourself, John!”_

“SHUT UP!” Arlo almost flinched with the force of John’s cry but held fast to where he had him pinned down. “Shut up-”

“You’re hurting others!” The body that was nearly rolling over before in its effort to get Arlo off was suddenly still, shrinking in on itself, collapsing inwards and imploding until the pressure would become too much, “you’ve become exactly what you don’t want to be! You-”

“I’m not a monster.” It comes out hushed, so quiet that if Arlo hadn’t been using his entire body to keep the now trembling John on the concrete, he wouldn’t have heard it. If he hadn’t been this close, he wouldn’t have even known that John was still breathing, like his body was willing itself to stop.

His eyes were so far away. Where are you, John?

“Is that what you’re afraid of...? Becoming a monster? If you keep doing this you’ll do it again. Be that monster again.” No response. Arlo looked up at the doctor and the man looked tired, shoulders slumped and defeated. He clearly didn’t want to go this far. The doctor reached out his hand to touch John’s head, “I can sho-”

“NO!” John’s head snapped up, so fast that Arlo had to jerk back to not get hit, and again the pinned teen was struggling. He screamed his protest, growing more and more deranged as the doctor’s hand approached while he cringed away from it. “DON’T TOUCH ME-”

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” It became a mantra. Although Darren’s ability was not powered up at all, although his hand lay firm, but gentle on the crazed teen’s head, although neither he nor Arlo were saying anything to John, he was stuck.

Stuck in that room with his hands bound.

With his mistakes replaying over and over and over.

It didn’t matter whether he was weak or strong, the monsters always came with their teeth bared and their hunger unending. They swallowed John once, made him one of them once, but in the end it didn’t matter whether he was a monster or not. Either way he was never good. Never good enough to be on the right team. The winning team-

“Get out.” Was the only thing he could say. The frigid nothingness that was his tone startled Darren enough to let go of the teen’s head. 

Then John was banging his head on the pavement. Over and over despite Darren trying to prevent the self-destruction and even Alro trying to hold John back. They could only watch as John slammed his head against the hard rock, choosing to bleed and cave in and break his brain in one last desperate act to unhinge whatever was ‘in his head.’

His cries gurgled down into wet shudders as dots began to line his vision. It was almost a relief. The black meant sleep was coming, when was the last time John slept? Sounds were just white noise ringing in the background. He brought his head down again. All John could hear was screaming. Was he the one screaming? Sobbing. Was that him too? Which noises were him? Which feelings were his? What was he?

_”A monster.”_

When the gray concrete grew dark with blood, the only noises left were sobs concealed behind a clenched jaw and the wheezing that came with how John gulped down air but could never seem to breathe. His own body didn’t want to help him anymore.

_“You were supposed to be on my side…”_

“I am, you brat.”

And just like that, the Joker was taken down.

The rest of the affair was uneventful. Darren had Arlo carry a half-dead John up to the infirmary and the headmaster was informed of the events that occurred along with a quiet warning about whatever extra classes the authorities conducted. Reactions like that were abnormal. Kids like John were abnormal. Apparently it was just easier to train the abnormal to just self destruct and minimize the damage.

_“Don’t use your ability.”_ Was the one small piece of advice the doctor had offered, something Arlo had known already, useless. _”And if you can take it, exhaust him before I talk to him. You might have to take a beating but nothing more should happen.”_

But it was so much more than that at the end, wasn’t it? If that was all it took to get John back in the infirmary bed, asleep, and looking as weak as he used to, they should’ve done it a while ago. Arlo sat quietly in an uncomfortable chair next to John’s bed staring at his shaking hands. What did he just witness? 

“I didn’t want to be a part of it.” He muttered aloud and hoped to God that the Doctor would be back soon.

Then he regretted that desire too.

“He’ll be moved to your room, Arlo.”


	3. Two Pairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's easier to fold, but that isn't how you win the pot. She was going to find out eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello~ Thank you to everyone reading!! It makes me so happy to read comments and see kudos, so thank you for encouraging me to do what I love!!
> 
> I Just wanted to let everyone know that I've decided on a upload schedule! Please expect an update every Wednesday and Saturday!
> 
> Now... on with the story!

Even now, as he prepared to share his flat with an entirely new sort of beast, a strange sort of numbness was blurring the edges of Arlo’s senses. It almost didn’t feel real. He was just watching his body go through the motions of cleaning and ridding the shared spaces of his artifacts. The sounds of furniture being moved and the weight of his things in his arms didn’t quite connect; like this body was moving underwater and he was watching it drown.

_”He’ll be moved to your room, Arlo.”_

_“What…?” John? Living with him? Did the headmaster want him dead or something? He just held the guy down while he was panicking himself into a different dimension and they wanted them to live together?!_

_”You are the only student who knows John’s situation and can handle him if things go awry. That and,” the doctor crossed his arms, watching the sleeping boy’s form with exhausted eyes, “I’m holding you to your word.”_

He couldn’t do this, Sure, he had fixed this school but he wasn’t some miracle worker. John clearly wasn’t just out to destroy whatever system hurt him, he didn’t care anymore whether he fell along with it. Didn’t the doctor see what happened? He was there when John tried to break his own skull and splatter his brain matter onto the pavement — did he really think that Arlo could _fix_ that?

Arlo sat in his slightly more lifeless flat, eyes hazy with thought as his body slumped down on the couch. The room was now missing a few pictures, a couple souvenirs he’d collected over the years; the space didn’t feel like his anymore and, he supposed, it wasn’t. Not really. Not anymore. For once, the King didn’t feel welcome in his own kingdom, this flat — his home — could no longer serve as his throne room, not with John invading it.

His body lurched forward then, curling in on itself with his hands tangling in blond locks. He didn’t feel very well. Something in his stomach wouldn’t stop churning and he could feel a tension headache budding at the base of his skull. He hadn’t felt this sick in a long time and while normally closing his eyes for a while, meditating, maybe getting some sleep, might have helped, Arlo couldn’t get yesterday’s events out of his mind.

After turf wars, Arlo would have thought he’d gotten used to the moist sounds of blood and the crunch of bones.

But that…

It was different.

The many fights that he’d wormed his way into over the years couldn’t have prepared him for what John showed him. That wasn’t a fight, not with anyone else. That was attempted suicide. Fights should be determined, powerful, and awe-inducing. John threw his punches like his opponent would murder him and blocked like he knew he would always be at a disadvantage. Then when he knew he lost? He expected torture and he would rather do _that_ to himself than-

Sharp pain should’ve grounded Arlo — he was fisting his own hair, yanking a little like his hands were trying to pull him out of his thoughts. But instead the heat shooting down his scalp reminded him of how much it hurt to listen to John’s head connect with the ground, how agonizing those screams sounded, how he couldn’t distinguish his own cries to stop from John’s pleading. 

Who should’ve stopped? Him and the doctor as the people keeping him there? Or John?

His hands gripped tighter, wondering if that was really what happened to people at the bottom of _Arlo’s_ hierarchy. If what he created in the school to protect himself, his friends, his fellow students, really drove the lower tiers to the point of wanting to die. His hands yanked at his hair again, punishing.

_The low-tiers were also students. They should’ve also been a part of the people that Arlo was protecting. How badly- for how long had Arlo been failing them?_

The door clicked open and blank eyes fell onto the figure on the couch. Arlo was shaking. Lost. And those empty eyes were just watching him. John’s hand gripped the strap of his bag a little tighter before letting go entirely.

The bag hit the floor with a resounding thud. The door closed with a loud bang. John’s footsteps were heavy on the ground.

“Hey Asslo.” He always spoke like he was so much better-

“Shut up, John.”

Slowly Arlo’s shoulders loosened and he could feel his fingers straighten against his skull. It was an unsightly display, yet John had yet to say anything derogatory, either way, he didn’t have much fight in him right now so he kept his head down and waited for the other to say his piece and walk away.

Moments passed and silence. Something close to shame started to bubble under his skin, painful in the way he could imagine blisters littering his flesh, making him look as pitiful as he felt. “Stop looking at me.”

John blinked, focus returning to him before he pushed a scoff from his throat and turned away to pick his shit up from the floor. There was no point in comforting someone like Arlo. He probably had all the comfort he needed from the silver spoon stuck up his ass and all the other royals sucking his dick. So why was there a strange bitter taste in the back of his throat? Something was pooling in his stomach, overflowing into his chest and leaving a fullness there.

There was no point in comforting someone like Arlo. He probably had all the comfort he needed from the silver spook stuck up his ass and all the other royals sucking his dick.

Maybe if he said it enough times in his head, his body would believe it too.

Arlo wouldn’t lift his head until he heard the door to the available room close with a quiet click, and even then his skull felt heavy, filled with pounds and pounds of cotton. It was pushing against the backs of his eyes and filling his ears. Everything felt too muted. It didn’t help that there was now someone else in the flat to see all of that. He could feel himself cringing, criticizing, and let the strong parts of him carry him back to his own room. 

The next couple of days went on in relative quiet. They both avoided the common areas in the flat and preferred the solace of their respective rooms. They both went to their classes and extracurriculars, and avoided each other as much as they could. From what Arlo knew, there was a strange sort of quiet filling the school. The student body was waiting for the Joker to reap another Royal life, waiting for their newest threat to present itself, waiting for their current government to be overthrown. In no man’s land, Wellston seemed stagnant. 

If Arlo hadn’t promised the doctor that he would do something about John, he would’ve let it be, content with how they stayed out of each other’s way. 

How many more months until he would graduate?

The thought came to Arlo while he was writing his paper one late afternoon. He would be graduating soon. And John? John would have another year to wreak havoc. To ruin everything.

That in itself was unacceptable.

~~~

John was avoiding her. And while Seraphina had a lot to think about on her own, her best friend making himself scarce wasn’t exactly helping his case. Part of her really couldn’t believe what Arlo told her, but the other, more rational part, knew that she had to talk to John. Whatever was going on, whether he was Joker or not, his actions didn’t line up with who John was.

Seraphina was his _friend._ She wouldn’t doubt his character that easily. And if he really lied to her for that long, really kept her at such a distance for that long- she shook her head, trying to think of everything rationally.

_Think, Seraphina. You’re smart, you’ve solved harder problems._

Her head hurt, and it was too early in the morning to be dealing with mental dilemmas. First thing’s first, find John.

“Seraphina!” She jerked back, eyes finding the figure of her friend in the distance. Something in her chest relaxed and breathing came just a little bit easier.

“Evie. Good morning.” A strange sort of softness overtook the chill that was spreading in her body. She had friends, friends other than John, a support system outside of him, people that would help her if she really needed that second opinion. These people who could’ve been John’s friends too… and maybe they would’ve been there for him when she was suspended.

Evie paused in front of Sera, brows furrowing in concern as she watched the girl’s eyes glaze over slightly in thought. She wasn’t exactly the type to meddle but… didn’t Seraphina look rather worried these days? “Sure is, real pretty outside. Are you- are you okay?”

Sera let out a little noise, something akin to shock mixed with a mild unwillingness to talk about the thoughts plaguing her. “Maybe later, okay Evie? We have to get to-” She hesitated and hooked her arm quietly with Evie’s as they set out towards the school. They were _friends,_ right? “Have you seen John recently?”

For a moment, Evie looked confused. If there was anyone close to John it would be her, so why was she- then again… It did seem like Seraphina was hanging around them a little more than usual and while that wasn’t a bad thing, it was rather clear that she would normally be around John during those extra hang out moments. “Well.. I mean I have seen John around Arlo a little more than normal.” More often than not, Evie saw them leaving the dorms together. “That, and I’ve seen John go to the infirmary nearly everyday after school, so you can probably catch him-” The words got caught in her throat, dropping down into her stomach. It had been awhile since she’d seen Seraphina look that… angry. Was it something she said? “Sera-”

“Don’t worry about it, Evie.” Her tone was cold, colder than she meant it to be. She could tell that she went a little too far when she could feel Evie’s arm tense under her hold. She lifted her head up and offered a small smile, warmth flooding the colour of her eyes. “Sorry- I’ve been a bit uneasy these days. I just really need to talk to John.”

Connected at the arm, Evie’s warmth was contagious. The loosening of her muscles helped Seraphina keep her mind off of what was going to happen next, even for just a moment.

“Let’s get to class.”

But the comfort of stalling could only last for so long. After classes were over, Sera gave a quiet excuse to Evie and the others, telling them to practice without her as she made her way up to Arlo’s place. She should’ve known that the bastard had something to do with all of this, he wouldn’t have told her anything if he didn’t have something up his sleeve or something to gain from her having that knowledge.

The boys gave her great leeway as she angrily made her way up to Arlo’s floor. The look on her face and the dark aura she gave off kept them at a distance for now, but she would be lucky to avoid the assholes that would try her just because she was a cripple. If John were here…

But was John really a cripple? On her side, even? At this point there was no way of Seraphina knowing, not without talking to him herself.

Her hand was heavy on Arlo’s door, first a firm knock until he was banging her fist on the wood. By the time the door was opening, she had no patience left for that blond, hard-headed, control freak. “Where is-?!”

_John?_

What was he doing here? In Arlo’s flat of all places. Saying they hated each other was an understatement, so why-

“Oh. Hey Sera.” He offered her his trademark, sunny smile, hair ruffled and body loose with that easy confidence he always carried on his shoulders. “Long time no-”

“Where have you been?” Sera’s head was tilted down, not wanting to show the look on her face to her John, her best friend who seemed to be brushing his absence off like it was nothing.

He raised a hand up to scratch the back of his head with a little, sheepish laugh. It should’ve put her at ease. It should’ve made her feel like nothing was wrong, just like it always did. Then why?

Her mind wandered back to this morning and the way Evie’s body felt, pressed against her side. The comfort of another human being rooting for her, the built in buddy system called friendship. These days, John stopped feeling like that and Sera had just been ignoring it.

“Ah- well sorry ‘bout that! I’ve been moved into Arlo’s place and-” She stepped inside, shoulder brushing against John’s a little too roughly for his liking. “Well… come on in, I guess.”

She ended up in the living room, spacious and hotel-like despite being part of the school dormitories. Being the King really did have its perks, and it didn’t make any sense for John to be moved here unless…

Arlo requested that he was put in here. But why? To keep a close eye on him? To keep him subservient? Arlo wasn’t petty enough to keep someone around just to be constantly tormenting them, so this only made sense if, “John. I’m your best friend.”

He let out another little huff as he made himself comfortable on the couch, yet in his head, gears were turning. He’d been able to avoid her for this long, so how did she know to find him here? He swore to fucking God, if someone ratted him out he would-

_”Remember your goals, John. You have a good reason to get angry, but you can’t let your anger cloud your vision. Remember what you want.”_

Those stupid after school sessions with the doc really were getting to him.

“Yeah of course, Sera. You don’t see me having any other friends around here, do ya?” He gave her a wide grin, easy and friendly, without a care in the world.

“Then if you were in trouble, you would tell me right..?”

In the end, Sera was worried. John could understand that. But he didn’t need her worry, he just needed her to be on his side. So he tugged his face into something confused, “Uh.. yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

“And you would tell me the truth, wouldn’t you?”

Rocks were piling up in his stomach, urging him to move forward, to shout and get angry. The weight of dread was screaming at him to find Sera’s source of information and crush it. She only needed him for that. She only-

_”Friends are important. Multiple. You need a support system, John. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, everyone needs a system.”_

Seraphina was strong too. But unlike him, she had other friends now. He didn’t know who he was jealous of, those new friends or Sera for having them.

“Yes. Sera, what’s going on? You’re acting-”

Finally, Seraphina lifted her head, eyes shining with something John wasn’t used to seeing in her. Sure he’d seen her mad, happy, defeated even, but this? Was she about to cry?

“Is it you, John? Are you the one going around, beating everyone up?”

The beat of silence dropped another rock into John’s collection. “Sera? What- you _know_ me! Have you seen Joker? He’s got some crazy ability. You’re talking to _me,_ John? Cripple? Guy who ends up in the infirmary at least once a day because he fights back without an ability? Are you okay? You’re saying some really crazy shit and-”

“Joker. Yeah. I was talking about Joker.”

John paled, growing quiet.

“This Joker thing needs to stop.”

He stood suddenly and though Sera _knew_ this was her friend and _knew_ that before anything else this was _John,_ it was difficult to forget how those hands beat people when they were down. Hurt for the sake of hurting.

“How many times do I have to say it?” His hair cast a shadow over his normally cheerful eyes. No matter how many times “John the cripple” got beat down for his status, they never seem to lose that shine to them. Were they that bright still? After all this? 

**“I’m not Joker.”**

No. No they weren’t. They were clouded over these days, frustrated these days, unsure these days. For how many days? Sera just let herself ignore it for this long. She was so content to wallow in her own pitiful situation that she never noticed how her friend was spiraling.

“If we’ve known each other for so long then why don’t you just fucking believe me?!”

John was panicking. The last of his facade: breaking. If she knew, then he had nothing left for “cripple John,” nothing more for him to look forward to, no one else who would just see John and not-

“Have you seen the shit that Joker has done? That’s not me! Would I act like that? Do you **really** believe I’d do stuff like that?”

“PLEASE!”

Sera jolted, John grabbing her by the shoulders and gripping so hard she would normally worry about whether it would leave bruises. But right now? Right now she couldn’t break her eyes away from the fear in her best friend’s eyes, the desperation. He was running away from something and she knew it wasn’t some stupid high-tier or annoying deadline. He was trapped somewhere and she could see that he wanted to get away, but where he was stuck and what to do, Sera had no clue.

“I’m not Joker.”

“I’m not a monster, okay?”

A monster. No. John wasn’t a monster. But there was something seriously wrong with him.

“John, please…” Her voice went quiet, concerned, “something is wrong. I can help! You said-”

He let go of her then, his hands falling to his sides and trembling, fisted.

“What is with you people and thinking I need help?”

That wasn’t John.

“What makes you think I need your help?”

That couldn’t be John. John didn’t speak like that to her. He wasn’t that cold, wasn’t that uncaring.

“What makes you think that _you_ of all people can help me?”

John. This wasn’t you.

“Sera, you’re just a cripple. What could you possibly help me with anyway?”

The words slipped out before John could control it, all of this just slipped out before he could get a hold of his stupid head. What happened to honesty? What happened to staying focused on his goals and not letting this- this thing in his head speak for him?!

What happened to everything that doc told him to do?

“Sera-” He reached out to her. Just explain. Just tell her now. It isn’t too late, she’s still here!

_She hasn’t left you yet._

“Stop, John.”

No.

“Just stop.”

No. No.

“Clearly you need to figure this out yourself. Get back to me when you have your head screwed on strai-

”NO CLAIRE! DON’T YOU **DARE** WALK AWAY FROM ME!”

He jerked forward to grab her arm but she moved too fast, that hand striking him across the face. Her eyes were glowing that shining blue, glittering with furious tears. This wasn’t Claire.

“Enough.”

Then she left. The only one that John had. She was gone.

Everything was so achingly familiar, an echo of the past that his psyche clung onto even until now. What was he? Such a monster he couldn’t even keep the people closest to him on his side.

No, this wasn’t his fault. They clearly didn’t see what he was trying to do, he just wanted to get those idiots off their high horses and-

Reckless, idiotic, immature fool who pushed away his allies. Power-hunger, mad, _King._

You’re no better than the other royals, you hypo-

“John.”

Arlo.

John didn’t remember falling. Or Arlo coming in. Or him getting this close. He should tell him to get away. The stupid lapdog shouldn’t be touching him-

_”Friends are important. Multiple. You need a support system, John. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, everyone needs a system.”_

Arlo wasn’t his friend.

“I… I tried- but I couldn’t _stop._ ” Those words weren’t supposed to come out and he sounded stupid, trembling like a fucking rat. John was a King. So what if Seraphina wasn’t on his side, clearly she wasn’t good enough.

_”Remember your goals, John.”_

What were his goals? He wanted to keep her safe. He just wanted to have a normal life and be happy with his best- were they still friends?

_”Friends are important. Multiple. You need a support system.”_

Arlo was **not** his friend.

But he wasn’t making fun of John either, even with him kneeling on the ground like some commoner.

“John, I was thinking. We should spar.” He couldn’t hold in the scoff that burst forward at the idea. Did Arlo want to die or something? “Your problem. It’s a matter of control.”

“And you’ve got a fuck-ton of that to spare, don’t ya, your majesty?.”

“Shut up John. Come on”

He shouldn’t have wanted to go, Arlo tricked him before after all, but mechanically his body followed after the older male. A fight would be good. To clear his mind. Maybe he could find a way to talk to Sera again.

“Fine. Get ready to have that spoon up your ass, kicked into your stomach.”

~~~

Seraphina didn’t know where she was going. Just away from John, she guessed. It hurt, to hear that from him, especially after he said all those things about them working through her loss of ability together. But if there’s one thing that being a Queen taught her, it was to keep a level head. With tears furiously rubbed out of her eyes, she decided that she needed a plan of action. Sure, she said that John should get his shit together without her, but that didn’t mean she was just going to let him go crazy. He hurt her and he better fucking apologize for that later, but she wasn’t planning on giving up on her favourite idiot.

“Seraphina! Oh my god, I found you- are you okay?” Evie looked up at her and Sera pulled a tough look onto her face.

“Evie, great I was just looking for you. I need some help.”

Evie flushed but nodded with determination.

Sera was going to get John out of this, whether he liked it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long for y'all today!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I love criticism and when people throw their ideas at me. You never know, it might actually end in the fic lmao. Pls be nice though, my feelings get hurt easily. Oh and if you have a second please leave me a kudo ❤


End file.
